A letter to my children from The Elf on the Shelf

Don't judge me, you bastards. I defy ANY of you to do this job and NOT drink.

Dear Zan & Jayna,

I’ve tried to be nice, children. For days now, I’ve sat quietly on the shelf, or hung from the Christmas tree, or peered down upon you from atop the mantle or the cabinets or the china cupboard or whatever other wacky locale your father I could find. And I’ve tried.

I’ve tried, by virtue of my silent presence, to gently coax you into compliance with your parents’ wishes. And they I had hoped that my mere presence alone would be enough to keep you in line … but after the display the two of you put on this morning, it has become clear to me that my pixie-ish grin and my kind, blue eyes aren’t getting the message across … so here’s how it’s gonna be:

You two are going to get with the program right now, because if you don’t, there’s going to be nothing but a fuckload of coal up in this bitch on Christmas morning, you dig? And, no, this isn’t the booze talking. Don’t let the red pajamas and goofy look plastered on my face fool you, OK? Because I will cut a bitch.

Boy Child: Enough! Enough with the whining and the crying and the moody outbursts and the falling apart about every little thing your sister does. Stop being such a pussy. You think you’ve got it bad? How do you think I feel, huh? I’ve gotta live with you lunatics, sit stock still all day long, then spend every night flying back and forth to the North Pole so I can report your behavior to Santa! I mean, SERIOUSLY? All the technology that fat fuck delivers every Christmas, and he can’t figure out how to text? I’ve gotta fly the message to him? Asshole.

Girl Child: Same goes for you! STOP. IT. You’re cute, but you also are a spectacular ball-buster. Stop provoking your brother, because if you don’t, and he decides to smack you down, I will turn a blind eye. The jolly fat man won’t hear a word of it from me. What he will hear about, however, is your constant “No!”-ing and back-talking and grunting and screaming and crying every time your parents ask you to do something. That shit’s over.

Repeat after me, children: “OK, Mommy. OK, Daddy.”

Good. Now stick to that script and you might actually have a shot at seeing the fuck-ton of ridiculously expensive shit for which your parents worked their asses off gifts Santa is planning to give you this year.

Dude. Can I use this letter for my OWN kids? It seems like the week before christmas is the WORST. I also decided to pottytrain my son this week, so I kinda put myself in the position from hell, but if my daughter rolls her eyes at me ONE more time, or if either one of them ….. grrr. It’s been never ending fighting. And the one hasn’t even STARTED her christmas break yet.
I’m gonna go ahead and throw myself from a moving vehicle now. It won’t be as painful, and imagine the peace and quiet I’ll get from the hospital room. yeah.

Awesome. ’bout time someone said what we all know those little elves are thinking! Crossing my fingers the rest of this week goes smoother for you- or that at least you have enough beers to make it through. Thanks for making me giggle everytime I read your blog! Merry Christmas!

Wow. I thought it was just my house. We’re not doing the elf thing (too much pressure!), but I finally pulled the Santa card this morning…twice in the space of about 30 min. I don’t know what alien has taken over my sweet child’s mind, but I hope it goes back where it came from soon. Insanity!

One of my coworkers says that one year, when she and her brother got up Christmas morning, there were no gifts for them under the tree. Just stuff for mom and dad. “Boy, Santa must be very disappointed in you two,” they were told. Eventually it was discovered that Santa had “accidentally” left their presents in another room. She remembers is as being about 3 hours later, but suspects it was probably less than 30 seconds. In retrospect, she now realizes how hilarious and satisfying her parents must have found this.

Dying laughing. I totally want to have a drink with that elf. He has a lot to say. I don’t have kids, but my husband and I have a nephew and niece. We just get to watch all of this unfold from the sidelines.

When I suggested to my husband that we buy one of these, he nearly choked and then I remembered the time when my middle child woke up crying because the tooth fairy didn’t come and I told her it was her fault for putting the tooth too far under her pillow…who did she think the tooth fairy was? Arnold Schwarzenegger? Spent the rest of the day crying convinced I was the worst parent ever while my husband googled child abandonment stories on the internet to comfort me, “See you’re not as bad as this mother. She left her child in the car when she went to gamble” Ummmmm….yay?Cractpot´s most recent blog post: Tea to Go